


Good things come (and people too)

by BakedAppleSauce



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, the most established of established relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 07:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30136203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakedAppleSauce/pseuds/BakedAppleSauce
Summary: “There’s food,” Nicky says. “I was going to make dinner, actually-” laughing when Joe shakes his head immediately, decisive, like that is a ridiculous statement to make. Oh, but Joe missed him.“No,” he says, and Nicky echos “No?” amused, pretending to be surprised.“No,” Joe says again, then holds out his hand for Nicky to take and adds, “Later.”“Nine days,” Nicky mutters, but he has already taken Joe’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and lets himself be reeled in, stepping right into Joe’s space. “What’s an hour more?”In which some patience gets rewarded.(This is a sequel toPatience is a virtue (but waiting isn't),but it's basically just porn, so it's not exactly complicated.)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 41
Kudos: 329





	Good things come (and people too)

When Joe and Andy finally make it back to their collective hideout, two days later than originally planned, they’re both exhausted. Everything went well, all things considered, so there’s that, at least.

Still, Andy is in an inexplicably bad mood, because that’s just how it goes sometimes. Deep down, she dislikes big cities and probably always will. What’s worse, Nicky is not even home when they arrive, apparently gone out to get some more supplies. Booker gives Joe an apologetic shrug as he’s relaying the information, eyeing Andy’s disgruntled face with a mix of wariness and amusement.

Joe goes and takes a shower. Then he goes to put his clothes in the wash – Andy’s clothes too for good measure, because she’s simply stomped off to bed, leaving a trail of things strewn all over the floor like a path of destruction left by the world’s tiniest hurricane. They have a functioning washing machine this time around, miracle of miracles, even if it does sound like it might explode at any given moment, once you turn it on. 

Andy won’t thank him for the noise, but she has the ability to sleep like the dead whenever she so chooses, so she’ll be fine. 

Once that is taken care of, he retreats to their room and gets started on the usual maintenance: Wiping blood and dirt off the kevlar, cleaning all of his weapons. Makes a mental note when he realizes they’re low on gun oil, even though Nicky is bound to know about that already, because Nicky keeps tabs on these kinds of things with a vigilance that would put any tax auditor to shame.

Can’t fold his clothes properly because it is a waste of time, Joe thinks fondly, but God forbid any of the ammunition isn’t properly labeled. He’s just finished taking one of the Glocks apart, because it had gone into the water at one point, so there’s grime everywhere, when the door opens and Nicky appears.

He’s windswept and his cheeks are red, and he smells like the cool, crisp air outside. Closes the door behind him and then just leans against it, both hands casually folded behind his back, looking down at Joe for one long, impervious moment. 

“Hello, my love,” Joe says, grinning. 

“Nine days,” Nicky says, unimpressed.

“Yes,” Joe concedes. “It could not be helped.”

“Hmm,” Nicky says, non-committal. 

Joe wonders just how difficult he might have found it to hold out. Personally, he didn’t have a lot of trouble; due to being occupied with trying to blend in and gather information at the same time, and then too busy being shot at, so he honestly wasn’t all that tempted. They’ve both gone without for a lot longer, naturally, weeks and sometimes months on end, for all kinds of reasons as well. Sometimes it just… seems inappropriate and obscene. All that blood, all that pain. Other times, it’s due to… not _lack_ of desire, exactly, and more of a shift – a different, much calmer kind of interest in each other. 

This is a different situation altogether, of course. _This_ was and still is a very deliberate thing.

Joe might not have been all that tempted to actually _do_ anything, but he’d kept the reminder of Nicolo carefully tucked away in the back of his mind, carried it around with him very deliberately the whole time – the shower gel Nicky smelled of that particular morning, the way he sounded. What it had felt like to be pressed close as always, warm skin and whisper-soft hair, more coarse down between his legs where he had been hard and needy against Joe’s palm. 

“There’s food,” Nicky says. “I was going to make dinner, actually-” laughing when Joe shakes his head immediately, decisive, like that is a ridiculous statement to make. Oh, but Joe _missed_ him. 

“No,” he says, and Nicky echos “No?” amused, pretending to be surprised.

“No,” Joe says again, then holds out his hand for Nicky to take and adds, “Later.”

“Nine days,” Nicky mutters, but he has already taken Joe’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and lets himself be reeled in, stepping right into Joe’s space. “What’s an hour more?”

Instead of some nonsensical answer – _an hour? that’s very optimistic_ – Joe just kisses him, because they’ve waited long enough. Cups his face with both hands and fits their mouths together carefully, gently, before pulling back again. 

“Hello,” Nicky murmurs, voice gone satisfyingly hoarse. “Welcome back.”

Impossible to tell who moves first after that, but somebody does, or maybe they both lean in at the exact same time, because now they’re actually kissing. Nicky opens up to him with a pleased little noise, lets Joe slip his tongue inside while winding both arms around his shoulders, and then they’re _kissing,_ slow and deep, swaying in place a bit, right in the middle of the room. 

“Didn’t you say something about dinner?” Joe mutters eventually and yelps when Nicky shoves a hand underneath his t-shirt in retaliation, not quite ice cold anymore, but not exactly warm either. 

“Oh no,” Nicky says innocently, snickering when Joe twists against him with a hiss, wrapping an arm around his waist and dragging him towards the bed. “How did that happen?” 

They end up in a heap, Nicky’s other hand finding its way underneath as well, fingers splayed wide over Joe’s rib cage. They’re both overeager and clumsy with it, grinning stupidly between kisses as they undress each other, because sometimes it’s easy to tell that it’s going to be _good_. Joe spares one thought for their unlocked door, because they’re not alone in the house by any means and then decides, to hell with it. Not like it won’t be obvious what is going on in here, anyway.

* * *

“Forgot to lock the door,” Nicky pants about fifteen minutes later, just when Joe has bottomed out. Huffs a laugh when Joe, sounding strained even to his own ears, says, “Well, I hope you’re not asking me to remedy that situation _right now-”_

Joe can’t stop looking at his flushed face, at his heavy-lidded eyes, pupil-dark and glittering with satisfaction. The first time he rolls his hips they both inhale desperately, mouths falling open in perfect unison. Oh, Joe thinks, dazed, oh- this isn’t going to last long at all. Not a chance. 

Nicky is nosing at his cheek, breath ghosting hotly over Joe’s mouth and chin as Joe pulls out carefully, almost shaking with anticipation, before he snaps his hips, fucks back into him hard and fast.Nicky’s back arches clean off the mattress, in the limited space he actually has, groaning low and helpless in a way that hits Joe right where he lives, something wild and possessive clawing at the insides of his chest all of a sudden. Couldn’t bring himself to slow down if he fucking tried after that. 

“God, yes- c’mon,” Nicky pants when Joe starts to set a pace, fingers digging into the small of Joe’s back like he’s trying to pull him even closer than they already are.

They’re fucking like it’s their first time on earth or maybe their very last, fast and ruthless and utterly lost in each other. Nicky keeps kissing him and then stopping again, pulling away for some air, which leaves Joe to mouth at his jaw, suck kisses into the delicate skin right underneath. 

He feels strangely giddy – turned on, yes, because _fuck,_ he loves this man and he loves doing this, but also carefree, almost deliriously happy. 

“What if I stopped right now?” he manages, reveling in the way Nicky needs a second or two to blink up at him, looking confused, before his gaze sharpens into something that is amused and dangerous at the same time. 

“You stop fucking me now,” he says, deadly serious tone undercut by the way his breath hitches right in the middle of it. “You’ll never get another- another chance, because I am going to _murder_ you.”

“Ohh, like that means anything,” Joe says, flippant, and suddenly Nicky has a hand fisted in the hair at the back of his head and unceremoniously pulls him back down, all but biting at his mouth and they’re kissing again, slick slide of tongues that makes a new wave of arousal shiver down Joe’s spine. 

“Don’t stop,” Nicky murmurs eventually, right against Joe’s lips, somewhere between an order and a plea, like he actually thinks he might have to convince him to keep going. “Don’t- don’t stop, _fuck-_ don’t you dare- Yusuf-”

“No?” Joe manages, breathless and teasing, and Nicky is shaking his head no, clearly playing along because he wants to, because he knows it’s turning Joe on. “No. I need- _hnn,_ I need to, you can’t-”

“Like that?” Joe asks, probably failing to make it an actual question, because they’ve already settled into a rhythm that works, they’re already there, they’re _already_ doing it. “Yes? That the way you-”

“Yes,” Nicky moans, moving with him _perfectly._ “Yes, oh, that’s- oh _God-”_

He’s not holding back in the slightest, Joe can tell; puts it all on display for Joe to see, wanton and without shame. He’s already close, Joe can tell that too, knows what that looks like on him, it’s one of his most treasured memories. It’s deeply satisfying, the knowledge that they’re in this together, that Nicky wants this just as much. Hasn’t made any move to get himself off yet, which means he’s happy to draw it out a little longer – he’s not going to come untouched and they both know it. 

As if on cue, Nicky murmurs “Could not stop thinking about it. Every single day… do you have any idea how distracting-” 

“Ohh no,” Joe says, amused. “I couldn’t _possibly_ imagine.”

“Would wake up every morning,” Nicky says and oh, this is going to be devastating in the best possible way, Joe can already tell. “...already thinking of you. Two days ago I almost broke my promise and it wasn’t even my fault- opened my eyes and I, I was already halfway there, _God-_ I wanted you so badly, I couldn’t stop thinking about it-”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about what?” Joe asks innocently, and despite everything that is going on right now Nicky manages to grin at him, lopsided and absolutely radiant, shaking his head with a little laugh, like he can’t quite believe Joe has decided to be this difficult, and then he very pointedly rolls his hips, wraps both legs more securely around Joe’s waist and says, tone impressively dry, “Guess.”

“I’m sure I have no idea,” Joe says, breathless, and fucks back into him just to make a point, and then they’re done talking for while, apparently. Nicky pulls him down again, pulls him _in,_ still shaking his head even as they’re already kissing again. 

They manage to draw it out for another five minutes, which feels like an impressive amount of time, all things considered.

“Go ahead,” Joe murmurs finally, when they’ve both reached the point of desperate little noises, movements sluggish and uncoordinated with the need to hold on for a little while longer. “I know you want to, show me-” and Nicky is already fumbling to work a hand between their bodies, raising his head to look at what he’s doing for seemingly no reason at all, other than bumping their foreheads together. Joe can tell the exact moment he fists his own dick by the breathless moan he makes and then Nicky’s eyelids flutter shut, body relaxing back into the bed like he’s gone boneless with pleasure already. His free hand reaches for Joe’s wrist, where he’s braced on his palms on either side of Nicky’s head, gripping tight like he needs to hold on. 

Joe can feel him stroke himself, knuckles brushing up against Joe’s stomach, quick and sure. One of his legs is starting to slip almost immediately, sliding down Joe’s flank; Joe reaches for it, hooks a hand underneath his knee to help him hold it up, opens him up a little more in the process, making it easier to fuck him, even though his thrusts are beginning to become a little unsteady at this point, a little frantic-

 _“Ohfuck-”_ Nicky says, all one word, sounding almost shocked, and then he bucks, mouth falling open. They don’t quite manage to come at the same time, but it’s _close,_ Joe trying and _failing_ to fuck him through the whole thing, because he just can’t hold back long enough, orgasm catching up with him the moment he looks down and sees the mess Nicky is making of himself, coming white-hot and sticky all over his own chest. 

They keep making out for a long while afterwards, after Joe’s pulled out and rolled off him; both of them on their sides with their legs tangled together, messy and utterly perfect. Nicky pushes a hand into Joe’s hair, all but cradling his head, thumb gently stroking the shell of Joe’s ear. 

“Nine days,” he murmurs, but there is no heat behind it. If anything, he sounds enormously satisfied. 

“Yes,” Joe murmurs back. “If you still remember it this clearly, I will have to try harder next time.”

“I have already forgotten,” Nicky concedes, corner of his mouth twitching. Tips his head up, noses along Joe’s cheek, gives him a soft kiss in the same spot. He’s starting to think about making dinner, maybe even about the fact that they’re low on gun oil. Joe can _tell._ Sometimes Nicky goes completely pliant in the aftermath, a lazy weight in Joe’s arms, and sometimes he almost seems… _refreshed,_ like making love supplied him with some sort of unholy energy. Joe, who squarely falls into the former of those two categories, sighs deeply. 

Nicky grins at him, probably well aware of what is going on inside his head right now.

“I am so very glad you’re back,” he says, utterly sincere, and leans forward to press a kiss to Joe’s forehead. It is very lovely and maybe a tiny bit condescending. Joe pretends to scowl at him, which is an impossible task, because all his face seems to want to do is smile back.

“I am very glad to be back,” he says, then sighs again, resigning himself to his fate. “Would you like some help in the kitchen?”

“Mmmhh,” Nicky says, chewing on his lower lip, mouth twisting in concentration as he's actually thinking about the offer. “No,” he says then. “I don’t think so, no. I would, however, enjoy your company.”

Joe demonstratively sighs again, unreasonably pleased with himself when Nicky snickers at him. It shouldn’t feel like an accomplishment after all of this time, something to be treasured, to be proud of – _he thinks I'm funny, I made him laugh_ – but it miraculously still does. At this point, Joe doesn’t think it will ever change. 

“I would _greatly_ enjoy your company,” Nicky says. “Very much. It would make me so very happy.”

“Shameless,” Joe tells him bitterly. “You are utterly shameless.”

“Well…” Nicky says with a suggestive raise of his eyebrow, then pointedly looks back and forth between the two of them – the state they’re currently in. “Yes? I am? What is your point?”

Joe kisses him, absolutely _has_ to, all of a sudden. Everything turns hot and heavy again for a second or two, Nicky’s pink mouth opening easily, letting him work his tongue inside with a low, surprised moan. They end up with their foreheads pressed together, a bit breathless all over again.

“You can stay here if you like,” Nicky murmurs. “Sleep for a while. I wasn’t serious, I know you must be tired.”

“Nonsense,” Joe says. “I’d love to keep you company. Also… somebody has to supervise, no?”

Nicky playfully shoves at his shoulder, before kissing his cheek again. Then he rolls over and out of bed. Joe flops back down with a groan, allows himself a dramatic moment of self pity before he’ll follow along.

“Oh,” Nicky’s voice says. 

When Joe looks over at him, he’s standing right next to the bed, unabashedly naked, hands on his hips, looking surprised and a bit disgruntled, brow furrowing. Joe realizes that he must be feeling sore, because… well. It’s been a while and Joe didn’t exactly go easy on him. It won’t last long, their circumstances given what they are – never has. Joe can’t help but grin, feeling a little bit triumphant.

“See,” he says innocently. “This is why you should’ve just stayed in bed with me.”

Nicky shoots him a no-nonsense look. 

“This too shall pass,” he says, determined, and very carefully reaches for a t-shirt that has managed to stay on the mattress somehow. Joe thinks it might be the one _he_ was wearing before, he’s not sure. 

“I mean,” he says, deliberately suggestive. “It doesn’t _have_ to.” Can’t help but add, “If you know what I mean.” 

“I doesn’t?”

“No.”

“I see,” Nicky says, nodding very seriously. “You’re more than happy to assist in this regard, but you’re not willing to accompany me to the kitchen.”

“I mean…” Joe says. “If you’re asking me to _choose_ between the two-”

“Shameless,” Nicky says, throwing his own theatrics back at him. “Utterly shameless.”

Joe winks at him, which causes him to snort and duck his head, helplessly amused.

“Well,” he says then, both fists still planted on his hips, except now he’s holding the t-shirt in one of them. _“I_ am going to go take a shower. Then I am going to make dinner. And if you volunteer to wake Andy later, I’ll consider letting you make me feel like this again.” He gestures to himself with his free hand, head to toe, encompassing the fact that he still must be _acutely_ aware of having a dick up his ass not too long ago. 

“How easy do you think I am?” Joe says, trying not to laugh. 

Nicky tilts his head, giving him a _look,_ which… he’s a hypocrite and a half, and they both know it, Joe thinks fondly. With another sigh, he pushes himself upright with one hand, swings both legs over the edge of the mattress, plants his feet on the cool floor. 

Nicky steps forward and between his splayed legs immediately, puts both palms on his shoulders, one hand sliding up the back of Joe’s neck and into his hair. Joe wraps both arms around his waist, pulling him in as close as he’ll go. It’s a very indecent hug, all things considered, because they are both naked and there is dried semen all over Nicky’s chest.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Nicky says again, very quietly, like this time he’s actually telling some secret truth and he doesn’t want anybody to overhear.

Joe strokes a thumb over the small of his back, kisses his hip for good measure and hums in agreement.

“Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write something else and then my brain just went, no. You remember that tiny story from a few months ago? That should have a sequel. Do that instead. So I did.  
>   
> (Once again I feel like I need to apologize for that dumb-ass title lmao. It's a play on "Good things come to those who wait", except... you know. I made it into a terrible innuendo.)


End file.
